I do not own Shaman King.
IactaMurmur: Hey, this is my first fanfic of SK. I was so perplexed by the orange on the Mentalite cover, I decided to write a fanfic about it. I hope you like it. Also as a note, I just took a 10-minute course in honorifics from a friend of mine. So if anything is mis-used, please tell me?
Hana: All his Own.
Chapter One: Morning Chat
The window beside the bed was half-open, letting in a cool breeze. The alarm clock had since gone off four times, all evenly spaced within an hour's time. A knock came from the door. No reaction. Yoh pushed it open and walked into the room of his son, clothes and toys flooded over the floor. He chuckled, walking over everything in the way of his son.
He sat on the bed beside the sleeping boy, running his fingers through the wild blond hair. It was a bit thicker than Anna's, but otherwise similar. It was incredible really, the amount of affection he had developed for the kid in the few weeks he had known him. Though, he had expected this, it was a lot to take in.
Both he and Anna had spent almost every moment with him since then. Almost to the point of seeming obsessive, but Yoh didn't see it that way. There was no way to make up the six years they weren't here, it was impossible.
They missed nearly a third of his childhood, but after getting to know him, it seemed he was reasonably happy while they were away. That was good, and Hana still had a whole life to live, he wouldn't be a kid forever but…
Yoh shook his head, "We'll get there when we get there". He rubbed Hana's shoulder gently. Hana rolled over, for a split second Yoh could see a grin. "Hana-kun…". Hana rolled over twice more before opening his eyes.
"Good morning, tou-san…" he said softly, before falling into a yawn. Yoh patted him on the head, smiling from ear to ear.
"As if you haven't felt my hair enough, tou-san".
"Aha, so you were awake!"
"Was not, I was sleeping the whole time".
"Right".
They both smiled, there had been a lot of smiling for awhile now. Nobody was quite used to this yet, but they were all getting there. Yoh glanced at the clock, nearly nine thirty. "Say, Hana?".
Hana stared at his father curiously, Yoh nearly blushed, he couldn't get over those eyes of his. Such a beautiful shade of amber, most fathers wouldn't think of their sons with adjectives like beautiful, but that's how Yoh is.
"Could you tell me a story?"
"Heh?", Hana replied, a bit thrown back. He wasn't sure what his father meant. He knew some stories but, it was kind of weird to tell his dad a story.
"I feel like we've told you so many stories about us since we got back… I'm kind of sick of talking about myself… I want to hear about Hana".
Yoh laid back into Hana's bed, which was too small for him, but ample size for Hana, who wasn't even four feet tall yet. Hana looked down to his bare feet, thinking of something. While he sat there sitting back against the wall, trying to recall something interesting, Yoh examined his son even closer.
He wore a sea green T-shirt and black sweatpants, both were slightly too big for him, but according to Tamao he was in-between sizes right now.
Hana must've sat there for nearly ten minutes, but he couldn't think of anything exciting or interesting. He didn't want to bore his dad.
"You can tell me anything you want, Hana, I just want to listen about you from you" Yoh stated with reassurance. Hana nodded and thought for a moment more.
Anything…
He chose anything that came to mind to tell his dad about. The time he lost his fishing pole to the mouth of a fast river. When Seyram helped him with getting some music on his MP3 player (to remind you, this is technically 2007), the time he tried making dinner, that one time he helped some kid find his why home. Anything he could remember, and Yoh listened intensely.
He remembered every word…
What I do? Everyone is gone…
I knew this book was evil… but that's what I liked about it…
We liked about it… he said we'd like it…
Who's he? How stupid am I?
I know perfectly well who he is… Wait… No…
I should feel ashamed, no… who's telling me that?
Yes…No… Shameful… Am I?
Says who?
Says he?
Who's he?
Who's I?
Who's that?
A figure walks, and walks and walks… Through cities, and forests and over mountains and across water. The figure walks and walks, and he shall soon stop… it draws closer, as it comes near, it thinks less and less, until its mind was as silent as its footsteps, which too, were about to stop…
IactaMurmur: I wanted to get this first one up, my beginnings are always short and crappy. But everything starts somewhere. Please review and tell me what I'm doing wrong/right as I go along. Next Chapter should be soon. I tend to keep chapters short so I can update often. Meh, just my style.
~Iacta Murmur~